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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439399">I will help you out If you let me 'cause I got you do you get me?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bkwerm/pseuds/Bkwerm'>Bkwerm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Got You [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:07:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bkwerm/pseuds/Bkwerm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>*Title is from Got You by Noah Reid (PSA, his new album came out today! 5/29)</p><p>Patrick and David deal with the after effects of his New York attack. Make sure you read the first fic of the series or else this fic won't make sense.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Got You [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on, David! You told me yesterday that the doctor said it was okay for you to drink, remember?” Stevie begged. It had been almost two months since David had been attacked in a New York bar by two homophobes and although his ribs still had a little more healing to do, his leg and arm casts had been removed. “We haven’t gone out in a while!” Stevie whined.</p><p>“I don’t know…”</p><p>“David, it’s a great idea. Besides, the doctor said it would be good for you to get some exercise to help build your leg strength back up,” Patrick interjected. “Anyway, I’m going to be working on paperwork for the store all evening. You’ll be bored out of your mind!”</p><p>David sighed. He hated when his best friend and husband ganged up against him. “Okay. Ugh, what time?”</p><p>“Yes! Okay, I’ll pick you up at 8?” Stevie suggested eagerly.</p><p>David nodded. “Kay.” He ended the FaceTime call and looked at his husband. “Are you sure about this?”</p><p>“David. Go have fun with Stevie. Seriously, I’m going to be busy tonight.” Patrick assured him. “Why don’t you get upstairs and take a shower, hmm?”</p><p>“Okay,” David replied. Patrick smiled at his husband and kissed him. David headed upstairs, taking the stairs one at a time. It took several minutes to reach the second story landing because of his legs and ribs and when he got to the top, David had to lean on the railing to catch his breath.</p>
<hr/><p>An hour and a half later, David came downstairs in a bandana print Dolce &amp; Gabbana crew neck sweater and a pair of black, distressed skinny jeans. His hair was expertly quaffed, and he’d taken the time to trim his beard. Patrick was sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop and turned to appraise David. He looked his husband up and down approvingly and patted his thigh in invitation. David walked over and sat on his husband’s lap, wrapping his arms about Patrick’s neck. Patrick smiled up at him fondly. “It’s really good to see you looking more like…well, you. You were looking like a ragamuffin,” Patrick teased.</p><p>David scowled at his husband. “I was not!” he scoffed.</p><p>“Patrick laughed. “A very cute and sexy ragamuffin.”</p><p>David swatted at Patrick’s shoulder playfully while cracking one of his signature side smiles. He leaned over and kissed Patrick fully on the mouth, who responded hungrily. Patrick’s fingers tangled in David’s hair, kissing him back with fervor. Before they could get carried away, however, the doorbell rang, and Patrick pulled away. David pouted at him.</p><p>“How about we pretend we aren’t home?”</p><p>“David. As much as I would love to continue making out with you, this will be good for you! Now, go on before Stevie knocks the door down!”</p><p>David sighed dramatically and walked to the door. He grabbed his wallet from the bowl in the foyer and opened the door to greet Stevie, who was dressed in faded jeans, a Rolling Stones t-shirt and a unbuttoned flannel button down. “That’s what you’re wearing?”</p><p>“Yes. Is that what <em>you’re </em>wearing?” Stevie growled.</p><p>“Um, yes! This happens to be stylish. You look like a lumberjack.”</p><p>“I always dress like this!”</p><p>“Exactly,” David replied. “You should expand your wardrobe.”</p><p>Stevie responded by flipping David off.</p><p>“Are you two going to stand there all night trading insults about your clothing choices, or are you going to go to the bar?” Patrick called from the kitchen.</p><p>“Okay! We’re leaving,” David yelled back.</p><p>“Have fun you two!”</p><p>“We will!” Stevie said. She grabbed David’s hand and pulled him out the door towards her car.</p>
<hr/><p>Last time he had been to a bar, things didn’t end well for David and he couldn’t shake the sense of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach as they drove to Elmdale. The entire drive, he was very quiet, and Stevie kept stealing glances at him as she drove. After about 10 minutes of silence, she reached over and shoved him gently on the shoulder. “You okay?”</p><p>“Huh? Yeah, why?”</p><p>“Well… you’re kinda quiet.”</p><p>“Am I? Sorry…” David replied.</p><p>“It’s okay. So, a new bar opened in Elmdale that I thought we could check out. How does that sound?”</p><p>“Great. I mean… sounds like fun.”</p><p>Stevie frowned when she heard David’s voice catch and sighing, pulled over onto the side of the road and turned to regard him worryingly.  </p><p>“Why are we stopping here?”</p><p>“Okay, spill. What’s the matter? Are you not up for this? We can always go out another night,” Stevie said. “I just thought this would be fun! We haven’t gone out since… well you know. But if you’re not…”</p><p>“I’m fine,” David interrupted. “Seriously, Stevie. “I’m just… I’m feeling a little nervous, that’s all.”</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>“It’s nothing. I’ll be okay. C’mon, let’s get going!” David said, trying to sound cheerful.</p><p>Stevie stared at him for a few seconds, unconvinced. But she didn’t want to push him to talk if he didn’t want to. “Okay,” she said simply. Stevie put her car back into drive and continued down the road towards Elmdale.</p><p> </p><p>When they stepped foot in the pub, Stevie made a beeline for the bar with David trailing behind. She ordered two beers and handed one to David. “To no more casts!” Stevie exclaimed, clinking her beer against David’s. David laughed nervously and took a swig from the bottle. “Look! There’s an empty table over there!” Stevie pointed towards a table in the corner and, grabbing David by the hand, hurried over. They sat down and drank their beers while Stevie told David about the stupid shit Roland did at the hotel that day. David listened to his best friend intently and laughed as she described how Roland had gotten stuck on the motel roof while trying to retrieve a frisbee.</p><p>Stevie finished her beer first. “Fuck. All gone! I’m gonna go get another drink. Will you be okay here for a second?”</p><p>David nodded. Stevie smiled at him and headed off towards the bar. When she didn’t return right away, David looked over and saw Stevie scowling at some guy who kept getting into her personal space. He could tell Stevie wasn’t interested and immediately felt his protective instincts kick in. David got up and started walking to the bar. When he reached Stevie, David threw his arm around her. “There you are babe! What’s taking so long?”</p><p>The guy glared at David, annoyed. “Is this your girlfriend?”</p><p>As soon as the words left the other man’s mouth, all the color drained from David’s face and his blood ran cold. “Uh… mm…” Suddenly, he felt tightening in his chest and his palms grew sweaty. “I uh…”</p><p>Stevie looked at David in concern and was alarmed to see his face was as white as a sheet. “I am. So back off, dude!”</p><p>The asshole scoffed. “Whatever.” Then he stalked off in search of another girl to hit on. Meanwhile, David could feel his legs begin to tremble and a wave of nausea surged through him.</p><p>“I uh… I n-need… t-to use the bathroom,” David stuttered.</p><p>“David?” Stevie asked with concern.</p><p>“I’m f-fine, St-Stevie. I’ll b-be right back.” David removed his arm from Stevie’s shoulders and stumbled off towards the bathroom, ignoring Stevie’s calls. When he made it inside, David entered the first available stall, collapsed to the floor, and promptly vomited into the toilet. He continued to dry heave for a few minutes, before flushing the toilet and heading over to the sink. David splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. “G-get it t-together, D-David,” he said to himself. The door to the men’s bathroom slammed against the wall as someone entered, making David flinch in alarm. Another man had entered and was headed towards the urinals, when he saw David standing shakily at the sink. The man paused and raised a questioning eyebrow.</p><p>“You okay there, buddy?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah… I’m f-fine,” David replied. “Th-thanks.”</p><p>The man shrugged and continued towards the urinals. David exited the bathroom quickly and found Stevie waiting for him just outside the door. “David? Are you okay?” she asked in concern.</p><p>David just shook his head and continued walking through the bar towards the exit. He suddenly felt claustrophobic and barely made it outside before crumpling into a heap on the sidewalk. Stevie hurried after him and knelt beside David, who began to wrap his arms tightly around his knees and start to rock back and forth. “Please… please d-don’t h-hurt me,” he mumbled over and over.</p><p>Stevie was frightened. “David? David, can you hear me?” When she grabbed David’s chin and forced him to look at her, Stevie gasped. David had an expression of sheer terror on his face: his eyes were glossy and a sheen of sweat had settled on his forehead. “David?! Talk to me!”</p><p>“Please… please s-stop… ”</p><p>“Dav-“ Stevie stopped as she realized what was happening: David was having a flashback.</p><p>David curled in on himself, arms now wrapped protectively around his abdomen. He gazed imploringly at Stevie his eyes glazed and unfocused. “P-please! It h-hurts…” he pleaded. Stevie felt her heart break in two.</p><p>“David. It’s me. It’s Stevie! “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”</p><p>David’s eyes snapped to Stevie and he gazed at her in confusion.  “St-Stevie?” David stuttered, his eyes still unfocused, tears streaming down his face.</p><p>“Yes! Stevie! We’re in Elmdale remember?”</p><p>“Elmdale…”</p><p>“Yes. We went out for drinks, remember?” Stevie begged.</p><p>“St-Stevie… it h-hurts. Please make them stop!”</p><p>Stevie began to panic and she grasped David by the shoulders. “David, listen to me. We’re in Elmdale for drinks. To celebrate your casts coming off, remember?”</p><p>“My casts…”</p><p>“Yes. Remember? You went to the doctor’s yesterday,” Stevie urged.</p><p>David stared at her. “The doctor’s…” he repeated.</p><p>This wasn’t working; she couldn’t get through to him.</p><p>Somehow, Stevie managed to pull David to his feet. He swayed a little, so Stevie ducked down under his armpit and wrapped an arm around his waist. “C’mon, David. Let’s get you home to Patrick, okay?”</p><p>“Patrick…” David replied in a daze.</p><p>“Yes. C’mon.” Stevie gently steered David towards the bar parking lot. When they got to her car, Stevie leaned David up against it and opened the passenger door. Then she grabbed David by the shoulders and began leading him towards the door. As though she were a police officer putting a suspect in the back of a squad car, Stevie covered David’s head with her hand and gently pushed him down, guiding him into the seat. She grabbed the seatbelt and leaned over, buckling her best friend in and closing the door. David, now eerily silent, continued to stare straight ahead.</p><p>As they drove back to Schitt’s Creek, Stevie couldn’t help but feel guilty for making David come out with her tonight. She thought about calling Patrick on the way back but thought better of it. The last thing Patrick needed was to receive another panicked call saying something had happened to David at a bar. No, the best thing right now would be to get David home and into bed.</p><p>Stevie probably broke a dozen traffic laws by the time she arrived back at the Brewer-Rose house. She pulled into the driveway and parked, before turning to appraise her best friend.</p><p>During the drive back, David had curled into himself and his entire body shook like a leaf. For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Stevie felt her heart in her throat. “David?” she put a hand on his back, making him flinch violently. Stevie removed her hand quickly as though burned and hastily undid her seatbelt. She scrambled out of the car and ran for the house. Without bothering to knock, Stevie burst in through the front door. “Patrick? Patrick!” she shouted.</p><p>Patrick rushed into the foyer from the kitchen. “Stevie? What are you doing back so soon? Where’s David?”</p><p>“He’s in the car. Patrick, he’s in bad shape. I think he had some kind of… flashback at the bar.”</p><p> “What!? What happened?” Patrick asked in alarm. Stevie quickly explained what had happened and Patrick felt his insides turn to jelly. “Are <em>you</em> all right?”</p><p>Stevie nodded.</p><p>“Okay. I will get David out of the car. Why don’t you go get some water? You look like you need it.”</p><p>“Stevie nodded again and headed to the kitchen while Patrick rushed out to the car. He opened the passenger side door and crouched down, making sure not to touch David without permission.</p><p>“David?”</p><p>David jumped in his seat and turned his head slowly to look at his husband. Patrick swallowed back a gasp when he saw the blank expression on David’s face. His eyes had a faraway look to them, and his skin was ghostly pale. “David, baby, can you get out of the car for me?” David blinked at Patrick but made no other indication that he’d heard him.</p><p>“David, baby, I need you to get out of the car now, okay? I’m going to touch you now,” Patrick warned. He leaned in and unbuckled his seatbelt. Then Patrick took both David’s hands in his and gently tugged on his arms. David lurched forward and allowed his husband to pull him from the passenger seat to standing, where his legs promptly gave out underneath him. Patrick caught him as he fell and swept him up into his arms. David buried his face in Patrick’s neck instinctively and Patrick began making his way back towards the house.</p><p>Once inside, Patrick started carrying David up the stairs. “Stevie? Can you get the door please?” Patrick called.</p><p>“Yeah!” came a reply from the kitchen.</p><p>Patrick continued up the stairs and into the master bedroom. He set David down on the left side of the bed in a seated position and began working at David’s shoelaces. Once he’d removed the shoes and tossed them aside, Patrick tugged gently at the hem of David’s sweater and pulled it up over his husband’s head. All the while, David continued to sit in a daze, eyes staring unfocused at the wall. Patrick folded the sweater carefully and set it down on the bed next to David. Then he went over to the dresser and rummaged through it until he found a black t-shirt. Patrick placed the shirt over David’s head and carefully maneuvered his arms into the sleeves. “David? Can you lie down for me, baby?” When his husband didn’t respond, Patrick grabbed David by the shoulders and pushed him down gently so that he was lying on the bed. He removed the jeans carefully and folded them on top of the sweater; he wasn’t even going to attempt to put David’s sweats on.</p><p>Patrick tucked David under the covers and bent down to press a kiss to David’s temple. “I’ll be back up in a second, baby.” He grabbed David’s clothes from the bed and placed them on a armchair in the corner; David was very particular about how his clothes were hung in the closet. Then Patrick turned off the bedroom light and headed back downstairs to check on Stevie, leaving the door ajar in case David called for him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick reveals David's PTSD diagnosis to Stevie.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stevie was sitting on the living room couch with her hand grasped tightly around a glass of water. Patrick saw her wipe at her eyes with her sleeve and hurried over to sit beside her. “Hey Stevie. How are you doing?”</p><p>“Honestly? I don’t know,” Stevie admitted. “I just… maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him so hard into going out tonight. I mean, on the car ride to Elmdale, he was super quiet and when I tried asking him about it, he told me he was fine. I didn’t believe him, but I was so excited to go out with my best friend that I pretended to believe him. But I should have turned the car around and brought him home!”</p><p>“Stevie. Stop. This isn’t your fault, okay? It’s mine.”</p><p>“What? Patrick…”</p><p>“No, Stevie, listen… I’m going to tell you something… David will probably be pissed but I’ll deal with it.” Patrick began.</p><p>“Okay…”</p><p>“Okay. Um… so you know how David was having all those nightmares about his attack? Well, they were… vivid. And it would take hours to calm him down after. Then, as you also know, David wasn’t eating much and wouldn’t leave bed for days on end.”</p><p>Stevie nodded. “I remember. That’s when you called Mr. Rose.”</p><p>“Yeah. Mr. Rose was somehow able to get him out of bed and eat. After his visit, I started to see the old David come out more and more. It seemed like things were getting better. And then, a week or two after Mr. Rose left, David relapsed. Except this time, it was worse. He stopped sleeping at night and would have these vivid flashbacks during the day. Stevie… it was…” Patrick’s breath hitched, and Stevie put a reassuring hand on his leg. “Sorry. It was devastating to watch him go through that and I just… I didn’t know what to do. So I scheduled an appointment with a psychiatrist specializing in trauma and she diagnosed him with PTSD.”</p><p>“Patrick…” Stevie breathed. “Oh Patrick, I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“It’s okay. He’s been going to therapy once a week and he’s on some antidepressants. I thought… God, I thought it would help for him to have some fun. And he’s been doing so well since going to therapy… I guess I was just so desperate for him to get better that I didn’t think about the possibility of him having an episode while out with you. So you see… this is my fault. And I am so sorry, Stevie. I’m so s-“ Patrick trailed off and placed his head in his hands before breaking out into tears.</p><p>Stevie scooted closer to Patrick and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her side. He leaned up against her, sobbing, and Stevie just held him, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Shh. It’s going to be okay, Patrick. He’s going to be okay.”</p><p>What happened next, Stevie would have burned into her memory for the rest of her life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the short update! I probably shouldn't have made the first chapter so long, lol. But I wanted this chapter to have a cliff hanger. Next chapter will be longer!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aftermath of David's PTSD episode</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A blood-curdling scream erupted from upstairs and Stevie froze. Patrick shot up and looked at her in alarm before springing from the couch and racing up the stairs with Stevie in toe.</p><p>When they reached the bedroom, David was sitting up in bed thrashing about wildly, screaming his head off, while his eyes darted around the room. “What the fuck?” Stevie exclaimed.</p><p>“Stevie, I need you to stay right here no matter what happens, okay?”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“This is a night terror. He could get violent,” Patrick explained. He hurried over to the bed and sat down warily, making sure not to reach out and touch David. This wasn’t David’s first night terror since the incident and Patrick knew from experience how important it was not to touch him. The first time David had a night terror, Patrick had tried holding him and David had hit him. And unlike the time David accidentally smacked Patrick in the face during his first nightmare after coming home from the hospital, Patrick had a bruise on his face for a week. The next morning, David had been so absolutely destroyed over the fact that he’d hurt his husband, that he didn’t get out of bed or eat the rest of the day.</p><p>“Hey, baby,” Patrick murmured. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”</p><p>David stopped screaming when he heard Patrick’s voice. His body stilled and Patrick inched closer. “David, baby, I’m going to touch you now, okay?” Patrick cautiously placed a hand on David’s shoulder. His husband flinched a little but allowed Patrick to push him back down onto the bed. “Sleep, baby,” Patrick whispered. David closed his eyes and fell right back to sleep and Patrick covered him back up with the blankets, before turning back to look at Stevie.</p><p>Stevie was staring at the two of them, a few tears running down her face. “That was scary,” she whispered.</p><p>“I know,” Patrick replied. He got up from the bed and followed Stevie out of the room. After he’d shut the bedroom door, the two friends returned downstairs and sat on the couch. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Stevie.”</p><p>“Is he going to be okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. He won’t even remember it. He’ll probably feel tired tomorrow though. Shit, Stevie, I’m sorry for tonight. If I hadn’t been so eager for David to get out of the house for some fun, this wouldn’t have happened.”</p><p>“Its okay, Patrick. And I’m glad you told me about the PTSD. I just… fuck… why is this happening to him? He’s been through enough shit in his life!”</p><p>“I know, Stevie, I know. But it’s going to be okay. He’s getting help. I might call his therapist tomorrow and see if I can get him an appointment. Anyway, it’s getting late. Why don’t you stay in the guest room tonight?”</p><p> “I think I might do just that. I still feel a little shaken…” Stevie admitted.</p><p>“Understandable. You’ve witnessed some heavy shit today.”</p><p>“Will you be okay?”</p><p>“Yes, Stevie. Please don’t worry about me. I’m just going to clean up my tax stuff and go sit with David for a little.”</p><p>“Do you mind if I stay up a little longer to watch TV? It’s kinda early…”</p><p>“Of course! Again, I’m so sorry Stevie…”</p><p>“Patrick, stop apologizing. It’s okay. Really.” Stevie stepped closer and pulled Patrick into a hug. Then she went in search of the remote while Patrick headed back to the kitchen.</p><p>On his way back towards the stairs, Patrick stopped behind the couch where Stevie was sitting. “Night, Stevie.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Patrick.”</p><hr/><p>When David woke up the next morning, he felt like he’d been hit by a bus. Groaning, he turned onto his side and found Patrick, fully dressed, lying beside him watching him. “What time is it?” David asked, sitting up in bed.</p><p>“10:30.”</p><p>“And… how’d I get here?” David asked tentatively, afraid to hear the answer. Patrick sat up and sighed.</p><p>“Stevie brought you home,” Patrick replied. “What do you remember?”</p><p>“Um… well we were at the bar and some dude was all up in Stevie’s personal space, so I went over to help and he… he said something to me…” David paled. “H-he…h-he…” David began to hyperventilate.</p><p>Patrick scooted forward and grabbed David’s hands in his. “David, I need you to take deep breaths for me, okay?” He began breathing deeply with David, all the while rubbing his knuckles soothingly. When David’s breath evened out, Patrick smiled and patted his knee. “Do you think you can continue?” David nodded. “Okay. Take your time. You are in a safe space, all right?”</p><p>“Okay. Okay, 'he said, ‘is this your girl-girlfriend?’ And then I f-felt sick and then… n-nothing… Patrick, I don’t remember anything else…”</p><p>“It’s okay, David. You had an episode.” Patrick didn’t think it was possible for David’s face to pale even further.</p><p>“Wh-what?” David stammered. “Oh my God…” He put his head in his hands in embarrassment.</p><p>Patrick scooted closer and wrapped his arms around his husband. “It’s okay, David.”</p><p>“It’s not okay,” David replied, his voice muffled by Patrick’s sweater. Suddenly, he pulled away from Patrick. “Fuck. Stevie…is she all right?”</p><p>“Relatively. You scared her,” Patrick replied. He looked down at his hands guiltily. “David… I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“Why are you sorry?”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have pushed you to go out. I just thought it would help if you had some fun and then…. I guess I didn’t think it all the way through,” Patrick replied. “There’s more…”</p><p>“Oh God, what?” David groaned.</p><p>“Well, I kinda… I kinda told Stevie about your PTSD diagnosis…”</p><p>“What!?” David glared at his husband. “You had no right…”</p><p>“I know. Baby, I know. I’m so sorry, David! But she was just so upset and thought that if she hadn’t pushed you into going out… you wouldn’t have freaked. And I couldn’t have her thinking it was her fault when I should have known better.”  </p><p>David’s face softened and he felt his anger dissipate. “It’s...it’s fine, Patrick,” David sighed. “Anything else?”</p><p>Patrick took a deep breath and David felt his heart in his throat. “Well, when Stevie brought you home… you were pretty unresponsive. So I uh…I put you to bed and went downstairs to make sure Stevie was okay that's when I told her about your diagnosis and you um…”</p><p>“I what, Patrick?” David asked warily.</p><p>“You had a night terror…”</p><p>“What? Oh my God! Are you… did I hurt you?” David asked, grabbing Patrick’s chin and turning his face to both sides to check for bruising.</p><p>Patrick reached up and took David’s hand in his. “David, stop. You didn’t hurt me, okay?”</p><p>“Are you s-sure?”</p><p>Patrick nodded. “Yes, baby. I’m okay. I just sat down next to you and told you that you were safe and you fell right back to sleep. But uh… Stevie saw…”</p><p>“Well this just keeps getting better and better,” David groaned. “Is that it? Or did I sleep-murder someone?”</p><p>“Sleep murder? David that’s not even a thing…”</p><p>“Patrick.”</p><p>“Okay. Yes. That’s all, baby.”</p><p>David sighed and fell back onto the bed with a huff. He grabbed one of Patrick’s pillows and placed it over his head in frustration. “I just want all of this to go away…” he groaned into the pillow. “I’m just so tired…”</p><p>“I know, baby. I’ll let you sleep some more; I know how tired you are after an episode. But I’m going to need you to take your medicine first.”</p><p>“Ugh…”</p><p>Patrick chuckled and got up from the bed. He headed downstairs and grabbed David’s sertraline from the cabinet above the sink. Then he filled a glass with water and returned to the bedroom. David was still underneath the pillow when Patrick entered the room. “David. Don’t go to sleep yet. You need to take your meds.”</p><p>Removing the pillow from his face, David turned to glare at his husband. “But I was about to fall asleep!” he whined.</p><p>“I know you’re tired, David. This will take two seconds. Now c’mon. Sit up, please.” David complied and Patrick sat down on the bed. He handed the glass of water to his husband followed by two pills. David swallowed both pills at the same time and finished the water in the glass. Then he handed the glass back to Patrick and settled back down onto the bed. “Okay, baby. You can sleep now. But only for an hour.”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“Because I made you an appointment with Dr. Michaels at after lunch.”</p><p>“Ugh… Patrick, I’m fine.”</p><p>“You are not fine, David. You had a bad flashback and a night terror last night. You’re going. End of story.”</p><p>“Patrick…”</p><p>“Stop arguing with me, David!” Patrick interrupted forcefully. David gaped at his husband in surprise; Patrick had never snapped at him like that before. Patrick sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, David. It’s just… that was one of the worst episodes you’ve ever had and I just… I want you to see Dr. Michaels today, okay?”</p><p>“Okay, Patrick,” David whispered.</p><p>“Thank you. Now go back to sleep. I’ll wake you in an hour so you can eat before your appointment.” Patrick stroked a stray lock of hair off David’s forehead and cupped his cheek gently. “I love you so much, David.”</p><p>“I love you too.”</p><p>Patrick kissed David chastely on the lips and left the room so that David could sleep.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>David has an appointment with his therapist</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am obviously not a medical professional, so hopefully the conversations between David and his therapist seem plausible...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dr. Michaels was a kind-looking woman. She wore thick black frames and her curly red hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her blouse was a rich plum color and she wore a black pencil skirt. Dr. Michaels specialized in trauma and had been seeing David Rose for the past few months.</p><p>The man in question was currently sitting opposite Dr. Michaels on a couch, his knees pulled up into his chest. They had been sitting there for the better part of half an hour and David had yet to say a word. “David, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” Dr. Michaels pushed gently.</p><p>“I didn’t want to come today,” David grumbled. “Patrick made me.”</p><p>“Okay… let’s start there, then. How does that make you feel?”</p><p>David shot his therapist a look that said “really?” and sighed. “Like a fucking child.”</p><p>“Care to elaborate on that more?”</p><p>“I just wanted to sleep today; I’m tired. And him making appointments for me without asking just makes me feel like I have no control.”</p><p>“I see. You mention feeling like you have no control. Is that something you’ve felt before?”</p><p>“Yes...”</p><p>“When?” Dr. Michaels asked.</p><p>“Where should I start?!” David exclaimed, standing up from the couch and pacing the room. “How about when all of our assets were seized by the government because of some asshole that our family trusted embezzled money? Or how we were kicked out of our home? Then there was the time I found out that the successful gallery I owned was only successful because my stupid fucking parents fronted the bills?”</p><p>“These are all things that you’ve told me before, David. But that was years ago; it’s in the past. Are there any recent instances in which you felt like you didn’t have control?” Dr. Michaels pressed.</p><p>David plopped back down onto the couch with a sigh. “Y-yes…” he whispered, his voice trembling.</p><p>“Can you tell me about that?”</p><p>“I… I feel like I have no control over m-my m-mind, anymore…” David ran a frustrated hand through his hair.</p><p>“Elaborate.”</p><p>“These stupid, fucking flashbacks… I can’t stop them from h-happening. And want to know what the worst part of last night’s flashback is?”</p><p>“What’s that, David?”</p><p>“My best friend saw it happen. She saw me lose my fucking mind-in public, no less- and now…” David trailed off and looked down at his hands.</p><p>“Now what, David?”</p><p>“And now… what if she starts treating me differently, like Patrick has been?”  </p><p>“Ah… I see. Have you spoken to Stevie since last night?” Dr. Michaels asked. David shook his head. “Okay. Well maybe you need to speak with Stevie about what happened before you decide she’s going to treat you differently. Because from what you’ve told me about Stevie, she doesn’t sound like the person to pity others. She might surprise you.”</p><p>“I guess…”</p><p>Dr. Michaels smiled reassuringly at her patient before continuing. “Just try talking to her. Now, you mentioned Patrick again and how you feel as though he’s treating you differently. How so?”</p><p>“He handles me with kid gloves. Like insisting I go to therapy, for example. He didn’t give me a choice! I told him I didn’t want to go to therapy. Been there, done that.”</p><p>“You’ve said as much before…” Dr. Michaels replied. “But David, you still have a choice. You are 37 years old; nobody can make you do anything you don’t want to. You say you hate therapy, yet you’re still coming every week to see me. Why is that? Why haven’t you just said to your husband, ‘hey, I don’t want to go to therapy anymore?’”</p><p>David shrugged. “I dunno.”</p><p>“Yes you do.</p><p>“It makes him happy,” David replied. Dr. Michaels raised an eyebrow in response. “Okay. Because… because I want to feel in control of my life again.”</p><p>Dr. Michaels smiled and glanced up at the wall clock above David’s head. “Well, David, our time is almost up, and I think you made some excellent progress today. This might be the most you’ve ever opened up to me before. Now, before we end this session, I have some homework for you. Before I tell you what it is, however, I want you to know that you have a choice in this, okay?”</p><p>David nodded.</p><p>“Good. In a journal, I want you to jot down in what aspects of your life you feel most out of control in. Then, I want you to share what you wrote with Patrick. Here’s where the choice comes in: you can either share it with Patrick in private and then come talk to me about it, or we can include Patrick in the next session and we can talk about it together.”</p><p>David looked at Dr. Michaels, unsure. “I dunno…”</p><p>“You don’t have to decide right now. Think about what you want to do and then shoot me a text sometime before our next appointment on what you’ve decided, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Dr. Michaels escorted David out of her office and into the waiting room. Patrick was sitting in one of the armchairs, reading a book, and looked up when they entered. “Hey, baby!” Patrick said, smiling. “How was your appointment?”</p><p>“Fine.” David replied with a frown. Patrick’s smile wilted; so David was still mad at him…</p><p>“David made some real progress today,” Dr. Michaels added.  </p><p>“Good. Good. Uh, thanks for seeing him on such short notice, Dr. Michaels,” Patrick said.</p><p>“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your day, gentleman!” Dr. Michaels returned to her office, while Patrick retrieved his belongings from the chair next to him.</p><p>“Read to go?”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>Patrick sighed. It was going to be a long car ride home…</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick opens up to David</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The two husbands rode home in uncomfortable silence, with David staring out the window and Patrick stealing worried glances at him every 5 minutes. When they finally arrived home after what felt like an eternity and Patrick had parked, David immediately exited the car and stalked into the house. Patrick got out soon after and watched his husband go with a sigh. He ran a frustrated hand over his face before following David inside.</span>
</p><p><br/>When he got in the house, David was already ambling up the stairs toward their bedroom. “How long are you going to give me the silent treatment for?” Patrick called after the retreating form of his husband. David paused midway up the stairs and grumbled something under his breath. “What was that, David?”</p><p><br/>David whirled around to look at his husband. “I said leave me alone, Patrick! I’ll speak to you when I’m ready, okay?!”</p><p><br/>“David...can you please just talk to me? I’m s-”</p><p><br/>“Stop! You don’t get to dictate when I’m ready to talk to you!” David interrupted, wincing in pain as his shouting exacerbated the dull ache in his rib cage.</p><p>Patrick rushed forward, but David held up a hand. “I’m fine.”</p><p><br/>“David...”</p><p><br/>“I said I’m fine!”</p><p><br/>Patrick halted in his steps and stepped back as though slapped. “Oh-okay, David...”</p><p><br/>David looked at the hurt in Patrick’s eyes and felt a pang of guilt knowing he put it there. But he just couldn’t deal with Patrick right now. Instead, David stood up slowly and continued his ascent up the stairs, leaving Patrick staring after him in dismay.</p><p>Patrick winced when he heard the bedroom door slam upstairs and sat down on the bottom step. What the fuck? In all the years they’d been together, David had never yelled at him like that before. Did something happen at the appointment? Dr. Michaels had said David made a breakthrough, right? Patrick’s thoughts were interrupted by buzzing in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw that his mother was calling him.</p><p>“Hey, mom.”</p><p>“Hello, my sweet boy. How are you, honey??”</p><p>“I’m… okay…” Patrick mumbled.</p><p>“You don’t sound okay. What’s wrong, honey? Is it David?” Marcy asked in concern.</p><p>“Kinda…” Patrick replied. He then proceeded to relay the events of last night and that morning to his mother. “I don’t know what happened. I mean, he wasn’t happy about having to see Dr. Michaels today, but she said they had a great session…”</p><p>“Patrick, sweetheart, from what you’ve told me, it sounds as though you didn’t give David a choice about going to therapy today.”</p><p>“I-I know… you’re right. But I just… I don’t know how else to help him, mom! He’s my husband and I can’t take his pain away. That’s my job. I’m supposed to be able to make him feel better and I c-can’t…” Patrick took a shuddering breath before continuing. “So, I thought if he saw Dr. Michaels today, it would help. But instead, he’s even a-angrier w-with me...”</p><p>“Patrick, baby, please don’t cry! These things take time. All you can do is be there for him. And you need to be honest with David about how you’re feeling.”</p><p>“I c-can’t.”</p><p>“Why ever not?”</p><p>“Because… my feelings aren’t important right now. David needs to concentrate on getting better, not on how I’m feeling.”</p><p>“Oh, Patrick, honey…” Marcy gasped. “Sweetie, your feelings are always important! Don’t you ever say they aren’t! Yes, David has been through a lot the past few months, but so have you. And you <em>need</em> to talk to your husband about this or else your mental health is going to suffer. Sweetheart, open communication in marriage is crucial, especially during dark times.”</p><p>“I know that I do. I just... I don’t want to upset him…”</p><p>“My sweet boy, just go talk to him. Everything will be okay, honey; I’m sure of it,” Marcy assured her son.</p><p>“Okay. Th-thanks mom,” Patrick whispered.</p><p>“You’re welcome, baby. I love you so much, sweetie.”</p><p>“I love you too, mom.”</p><p>The two Brewers hung up the phone and Patrick stood up from the step to begin his ascent upstairs. At the top of the stairs, Patrick saw that the door to their bedroom was shut. Taking a deep breath, he walked forward and reached out to grab the handle, only to find that the door was locked. Patrick gulped and knocked softly on the door. “David? D-David can you please let me in?” He paused and waited expectantly, but the door remained closed.</p><p>When David had reached the bedroom, he’d gotten a jumpstart on his assignment from Dr. Michaels. He was almost finished when he heard the jiggle of the door handle followed by his husband requesting entry. David wasn’t ready to talk to Patrick just yet, so he ignored Patrick’s request. But after a few seconds, Patrick knocked on the door. “D-David? P-please, baby. Please let m-me in…” David could hear the desperation in Patrick’s voice and felt the familiar pang of guilt surge through him once again. Sighing, he made his way over to the door and opened it slowly. David’s heart sank when he took in his husband’s appearance. Patrick looked destroyed. His eyes were rimmed in red and David could see tears in Patrick’s eyes and dried tear tracks on his cheeks. “Th-thank you for opening the d-door. D-David… I-I know you d-don’t want to talk to me, but I just… I n-need to talk to you. P-please… y-you don’t have to s-say anything, just listen. P-please?”</p><p>“Okay,” David mumbled.</p><p>“Really?! Okay… uh c-can we sit?”</p><p>David nodded and walked back over to the bed and sat down, closing his journal, and stuffing it under his pillow as he did so. Patrick sat down next to him and looked down at his hands and thought for a moment before looking back up at his husband. “Okay… um… baby, I’m so sorry for m-making you s-see Dr. Michaels today. I know you didn’t want to and I p-pushed you to go b-but… God, why is this so hard?” David didn’t reply and instead, waited patiently for Patrick to continue.</p><p>“It’s just that… David, I’m str-struggling right now. And I’m a fixer, but I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to help you. It’s hard seeing you struggling and in pain and not being able to do anything to make it better.” Everything was now coming out in a rush as Patrick began to unload everything he’d been feeling on his husband. David, meanwhile, felt his heart sink lower and lower with each word. “And last night was the worst episode you’ve ever had. It-it scared me so I thought that Dr. Michaels could help. Th-that’s why I insisted on y-you going. I’m just so s-“</p><p>David lunged forward and cut Patrick off with a kiss. When he pulled back, David could see more tears welling in Patrick’s eyes. He reached up and carefully wiped a tear away, before taking Patrick’s hands in his. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’m the one who should apologize for being such an asshole to you today. But honey, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way?”</p><p>Patrick shrugged. “You have enough to deal with right now. I d-didn’t w-want to burden you.”</p><p>“Burden me? Patrick, we are married; this is a partnership. You need to tell me how you’re feeling. God I… I didn’t realize you were hurting like this…”</p><p>As soon as the words left David’s mouth, Patrick felt everything he’d been feeling come crashing down on him at once and he began to cry. Alarmed, David pulled Patrick into a hug. “Shh. It’s okay, baby,” he soothed. “C’mon. Lay down for me.”</p><p>Patrick nodded into David’s shoulder, rolled away from his husband, and curled up on the bed. David lay down beside him and pulled Patrick into his chest. He wrapped his arms around Patrick and held his husband tightly, while stroking Patrick’s arm lovingly. As David listened to his husband sob, he felt ashamed for not recognizing the pain Patrick was in. He’d been so wrapped up in what had happened to him, that David hadn’t taken the time to find out how his husband was feeling. David had been planning on texting Dr. Michaels requesting that she speak with him and Patrick together, but now, listening to his husband cry, David realized it would be better to talk to Patrick about it in private. For now, however, David was just going to be there for his husband. They could talk later.  </p>
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